


Hell's All Right Tonight

by Topaz_Eyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-28
Updated: 2008-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 13:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from "Sin City."  Ruby helps Bobby with the Colt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell's All Right Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue at the beginning, and between Bobby and Sam near the end, taken directly from "Sin City."

_Now...do you want me to help you out with that gun or not?_

For several moments, it felt just like being in a classic Texas stand-off. The wind picked up and a cloud passed over, blotting out the mid-day sun. The air temperature seemed to drop several degrees as the leaves rustled in the branches above the clearing. All that was missing was the tumbleweeds rolling between the two combatants, the black and white cowboy hats, and the theme from _The Good, The Bad And The Ugly_.

Bobby stood, the gun at his side, his other hand clenched in a fist, his face clearly set to say, _damned if he was going to make a deal with any demon, especially this one_. Ruby simply rocked back and forth on her heels, her hands in her jacket pocket and her lips curved in a faint, condescending smirk. But after a while, even she started losing patience, and broke the tense silence first. "I can wait all day, but I doubt Sam and Dean can," she said, irritation belying the sweetness in her voice.

At that Bobby looked away, her words cutting right to the bone, and he was furious with himself at her blatant manipulation. "Jesus Christ," he muttered to a point above her left shoulder, and he shook his head in defeat. "Jesus fucking Christ." Glowering, he met her gaze again. "Yeah. OK. Get your ass over here, then."

"That's hardly the way to treat a lady, Mr. Singer," Ruby said, pouting.

"You're no lady."

"And you're no gentleman. But still, you wound me, Bobby," she said, clutching her chest over the hole in her T-shirt. She walked over to stand in front of him, and pushed a lock of blonde hair off her face. "And you owe me a new T-shirt. But I'll overlook those transgressions for now. Let's get started."

"Yeah. Let's," Bobby agreed darkly. He gripped the Colt so tightly it cramped his hand. "So what do I do with this here gun?"

"Well, you used it, so first you need to clean it," Ruby said, ignoring the belligerent tone. "Do you have consecrated oil?"

"Yeah, I do. Inside." He pointed at Ruby with the Colt and gestured towards the house. "Let's go."

"No way." Ruby crossed her arms and smiled knowingly. "I'm not that stupid. You think I don't know about your Devil's Trap on the ceiling? I'll just wait out here, thanks."

Bobby's eyes narrowed. "How do I know you won't try to kill me when my back's turned?"

"How do you know I will? You're just gonna have to trust me." Ruby nodded at the gun. "Better hurry, time's wasting."

Bobby's mouth twisted in a distrusting scowl. Keeping the gun pointed squarely at Ruby's chest, never taking his gaze off her, he slowly backed up towards the back door of his house. He almost tripped from trying to climb the two steps backwards, and Ruby covered her mouth to hide her amused chuckle.

The slam of the screen door echoed through the small clearing. Once Bobby's form disappeared from her sight, Ruby shoved her hands into her pockets and looked around. The clearing was ringed by gnarled, stunted trees and raspberry bushes. A splintering, weathered fence ran down one side, separating the clearing from the scrap yard. Scared away by the shots and voices, a couple of robins now sang a few tentative notes. She tried not to inhale too deeply, wrinkling her nose at the faintly sweet scents of decaying grass and wet dirt. A garden idyll; this was not her place. She much preferred the city life with its acrid smoke, its seething vice spilling onto the streets and puddling in the gutters; the broken bottles, used condoms, and rusting syringes lurking beneath the patina of neon.

She turned around at the creak of the screen door. Bobby came out carrying the Colt in one hand and a briefcase-sized case in the other. Avoiding her gaze, he headed towards a rain-beaten picnic table at the side of the yard by the fence.

"If you're gonna help, come sit at the table," he said gruffly.

Ruby smiled and made her way to Bobby's side of the table. Just as she was about to sit down, he growled, "Uh uh. Across from me, so I can keep you in my sight."

Ruby shrugged and headed over, straddling the bench seat and folding her hands. When he reached the table, he set the case down opposite her. Withdrawing a small, stoppered glass bottle from his coat pocket, he also placed it down, beside the case. The pale golden liquid inside the bottle glowed in the sun, and Ruby had to avert her eyes.

His brow furrowed, Bobby opened the case and withdrew a fine muslin cloth. Unfolding it, he set it on top of the gray boards. He then laid the gun reverently in the middle of the cloth. Opening the chamber, he dumped the two remaining bullets out and set them aside. He reached into the case again to pull out a cleaning rod and bore brush. "Any special way to clean it?"

"Just like you normally would," Ruby said.

Bobby's mouth twitched at her flippancy, but he fastened the brush to the rod, applied solvent, and diligently brushed out the bore. He repeated the cleaning using several soft cotton cleaning patches attached to the rod. Ruby watched, looking bored and occasionally picking at a nail cuticle.

When Bobby reached for the gun oil, Ruby spoke, intently studying her hands. "Add two drops of Chrism to the patch when you oil the bore."

He looked up, eyes widening in surprise. "Instead of gun oil?"

Ruby snorted. "With the gun oil, you moron."

"Oughta shoot you where you stand," Bobby grumbled, but he followed Ruby's instructions. He noticed that Ruby looked away when he opened the bottle of Chrism, and smiled to himself. At least he wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable about working together. He uttered a small blessing before pouring two drops of golden oil onto the patch.

He finished cleaning the bore of the Colt, oiled the metal parts, and set the gun back down on the cloth. "All right. What's next?"

"Now you reload the chamber," Ruby said.

Bobby withdrew a small box of 0.31 caliber bullets from his jacket pocket. Opening the chamber, he began to load the first five into the Colt.

Ruby picked up a bullet and turned it over in her hand. "Oooh, hand-made bullets. Don't see much of those anymore. Nice work. How many did you make?"

Bobby cringed at her voice, but kept his hands steady as he pushed the fifth and last bullet into the chamber. "Thirteen. And Dean made 'em."

"Dean getting a little revenge back? I approve," Ruby said with admiration, putting the bullet back in place with the rest.

As soon as Bobby clicked the chamber closed, Ruby stood and held her hand out. "Now give the Colt and the rest of the bullets to me."

Bobby's jaw tensed and his grip tightened on the handle. "No goddamn way in hell," he said through clenched teeth.

Ruby stared up at the sky for a brief moment, shaking her head at the clouds. "Oh, for Lucifer's sake," she sighed. She walked around the picnic table to stand beside Bobby. Striking a defiant pose, she fixed Bobby with a glare that could freeze metal. "Do you really think Mister Samuel Colt made this baby kill demons all by himself?"

The color drained from Bobby's face as he realized what she meant. "Samuel Colt cooperated with one of you badasses?"

Ruby's lip curled in disgust. "Hardly. Colt tricked us into giving permission. I wouldn't call that 'cooperating.' More like blackmail."

Bobby's legs shook, and he gripped the edge of the picnic table for support. Ruby stared into the distance, focusing on a point somewhere beyond him. "There was a demon uprising back then, different factions fighting, same old drill, and it was spilling into this world. Well, Colt's friend captured one of us, imprisoned him in a Devil's Trap in Colt's house. Colt promised the demon, he'd let him go if he gave the gun his blessing."

Her eyes blackened, her face twisting in memory. "Well, guess what? Colt didn't hold up his end of the bargain. His bastard hunter friend exorcised him anyway." Ruby's voice dropped to an angry whisper. "You humans, you are really more like us than you want to know."

Her eyes returned to normal, but her voice still sounded betrayed. "We got smart after that, once word spread of Colt's deception. Like wildfire. Word travels very fast down there. That's why there was only the one weapon that could kill a demon."

Comprehension dawned on Bobby's craggy face. "And that's why the yellow-eyed demon was so hung up on getting it back."

Ruby nodded. "Why would any of us let it exist if it's meant to kill us? But, this time, I am. I'm giving my permission for it to exist. Of my own free will. That's the difference." She beckoned for the gun again. "The fight's bigger and badder this time. Sam and Dean are gonna need all the help they can get."

Bobby looked skeptical, but he handed it over, tensing and ready to snatch it back if Ruby tried anything. She held it carefully in her hands; bowing her head, Ruby began to murmur in Latin. Bobby leaned in and listened carefully, in case he might need to remember it someday.

When Ruby finished, she looked up. For the briefest of moments, she looked older than time, beyond world-weary; and Bobby thought he detected a hint of regret on her features. It passed so quickly though, that he thought he only imagined it. Her mask firmly back in place, she half-smiled. "Now you bless and anoint the pentagram on the gun with consecrated oil and it's ready. The bullets, too."

He reached out to take the gun, brushing her hand in the process; her palm was so cold that Bobby winced. When he withdrew his hand, with the gun, his fingers were ghostly pale. "Jesus Christ, you froze my fingers!"

Ruby just shrugged and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. Checking the sky, she frowned. The sun was already creeping downwards in the sky. "Shouldn't you be hurrying this up?"

Bobby couldn't argue with her point. He grabbed the bottle of Chrism, feeling its warmth penetrate his frozen fingers. He poured one golden drop in the very center of the pentagram, rubbing it into the carved wooden handle, and he stared directly at Ruby as he uttered, "_In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen._" Ruby flinched and averted her eyes again, studying her hands. He repeated the blessing with the remaining bullets, watching Ruby closely; he could have sworn Ruby was mouthing the words along with him.

When he finished, Bobby hefted the gun in his hands. He felt a faint, warm thrum from it, a crackle of life underneath the cast iron of the bore. "Better get this to the boys. It's a long drive."

"Elizabethville's about five hours from here," Ruby confirmed.

"How in hell would you know?" Bobby said, flabbergasted.

She smiled that knowing smile that made Bobby shiver in a deep part of his soul. "I got my sources."

At that, Bobby scowled. "You know, maybe I oughta test this here gun out now." Bobby cocked the gun and aimed it squarely at Ruby's chest.

Ruby raised her hand and squeezed, raising Bobby two feet off the ground; his hands flew to his throat as he gagged, and he dropped the Colt. The gun landed with a dull thud against the hard ground. She glared at him, her eyes black and fierce. "You know, I've had just about enough of your attitude, Bobby Singer. Maybe I should just crush your throat where you stand."

Bobby kicked and thrashed, his eyes bulging as he choked; he stared wildly at her as he struggled for breath. Ruby simply clenched her fist tighter, her mouth twisting in a mocking grin. Bobby's lips started to grow blue from lack of oxygen.

Just as his eyes started to roll to the back of his head, she let go. Bobby dropped to the ground, clutching his throat and fighting for breath.

"You don't want to waste one of those bullets on me," she said, her voice dripping with saccharine. She reached down and picked up his baseball cap, which had fallen off when he fell. "Especially not when there's bigger fish to fry."

"Thought you demons were all the same," he said hoarsely between gasps.

"Oh, no. We're all different. And believe me, I'm not important. I'm just one of the lesser fallen angels." She dropped the cap in front of him. He reached out and brushed it off, before putting it back on his head.

"Wish I could believe that." Bobby shakily rose to his feet.

"Believe what you want. Now let's go, we're wasting daylight." Ruby turned and started to head round the house towards the car, her boots crunching through dry grass.

Bobby folded his arms across his chest. "Hold on there just a minute. We?"

Ruby turned back. "I'm coming with you, of course." She walked back to him, smirking. Bobby opened his mouth to protest, but she reached out and placed her finger on his lips. "Did you think I wouldn't want to see my handiwork in action?"

Bobby blinked, but stood his ground. Ruby removed her finger. "I--I gotta grab some stuff from the house," he said slowly, nodding towards the back porch.

"That's better," she replied. "I'll wait in the car."

 

~~~~~

 

It was after four in the afternoon by the time they left Sioux County, heading south and east towards Ohio. Bobby drove the Chevelle, keeping his eyes straight ahead, the Colt tight against his thigh, and his mouth shut. The humidity was up and a storm was brewing, and Bobby thought they might end up heading right into it on their way. He hoped not--he didn't want to spend any more time than he had to with the demon in the front seat. Though he did wonder, privately, what kind of girl Ruby had been before she had been possessed; and how much of a shame it was, that such a young, pretty girl was doomed to a premature death. He resolutely stared at the gray-blue eastern horizon, the building black clouds to the south.

Ruby alternately fidgeted and slumped in the passenger seat, fiddled with the radio dial, and sighed several times in outright boredom, but otherwise also kept her own counsel. About an hour in, halfway through Minnesota, it was Bobby who finally broke the tense silence.

"This is wrong. I can't believe it--Colt making a deal with the Devil for the gun. That's all kinds of wrong."

Ruby cocked her head and tried to conceal a chuckle. "Politics makes strange bedfellows. You oughta know that."

Bobby finally turned to glance at her. "All right. Say I buy what you're saying about Colt and the demon. But--but what about Halley's comet? What does the comet have to do with the Colt?"

"The comet? Absolutely nothing." Ruby wrapped her arms tight around her, watching Bobby's profile. "It's what you humans call a 'coincidence.' Makes the story sound all pretty and magical, but I told you, it's way uglier than that."

Bobby's jaw twitched. "Okay. But--why are you helping Sam and Dean? They screwed up whatever plans you had for dominating the earth."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Ruby spread her hands. "So it looks like we'll have to work together for now. Me, you, Sam, and Dean. One big, happy family."

Bobby chuffed. "You must have some pretty powerful enemies down there if you're enlisting the help of demon hunters."

Ruby looked in her lap, smiling and shaking her head. "Oh, Bobby, Bobby. You don't know the extent of chaos Dean wrought down below when he killed Azazel."

Bobby blinked. "The yellow-eyed demon. That who he was?"

"None other."

"Well, how 'bout that." Bobby looked suitably impressed. "Lucifer's right-hand man." He slowed to make a turn off the secondary highway onto the interstate.

Ruby looked up to peer at him. "And you know a lot about demonology for a good ol' boy."

Bobby snorted. "Call it my life's work." They made the turn, and Bobby sped up. "So, what's your real name, Ruby?"

She shook her head. "Uh uh. A girl's gotta keep some secrets to herself." Her mouth set in a straight, determined line. "All you need to know is, that I'll follow Sam anywhere. To the ends of the earth. To hell and back. Wherever he goes? I'm there."

They fell silent again, each with their own thoughts, as the sun set and the eastern sky moved towards night. They didn't stop to eat, or even for a bathroom break; Bobby had brought sandwiches and drinks, and they were too much in a hurry to reach Ohio.

They were somewhere in Illinois when the shrill sound of Bobby's cell phone cut through the quiet car. Bobby's heart sank, and he swore softly when he saw the number. "Dammit." He flipped the phone open, his face dour.

"Yeah."

He frowned as he listened. "Okay. Be there as fast as I can. And Sam? Don't, and I mean don't, try to fight them yourself, got it? Wait 'til I get there with the Colt." He snapped the phone shut and stepped on the gas.

"What is it?"

"Boy's in trouble," Bobby said tersely. The speedometer climbed to eighty, then ninety. "Hope we don't run into cops on the way." The engine revved to life, passing one hundred as they hurtled down the highway.

 

~~~~~

 

They saw the lights of downtown Elizabethville reflecting off the evening clouds, a few miles before they hit the town limits. Bobby's muscles grew more tense, his face more grim as they drew closer. Ruby too grew more alert, her eyes fluttering closed as they passed the "Welcome to Elizabethville" sign.

Ruby's eyes darkened, but in the general gloom of night Bobby couldn't see it. "Turn right here," she instructed, about half a mile into the town. "Three blocks down this street. There's a split level at the end. Sam and Dean are there."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, but obediently made the turn. "How do you know--?"

"I just know, okay? Two demons are there, too. Better step on it."

A few houses down from the end, Bobby slowed the Chevelle to a crawl, cutting the engine completely when he pulled into the graveled driveway. A trimmed hedge partially obscured the half-circle up by the house itself. Opening the door to step out, clutching the Colt against his side, he looked at Ruby. "Stay right here," he ordered, before slipping ahead through the manicured bushes.

"Like hell I will." She climbed out, shutting the door as quietly as possible, then followed him through the bushes, cursing softly as the branches pulled at her clothes. She froze when she heard a shot fired just ahead of her, followed by a thud of someone hitting a windshield; she stuck to the shadows as she saw a tall, familiar figure rush to the crumpled form of Bobby on the gravel in front of her.

"Bobby, you all right?" Sam frantically ran his hands over him, checking for injuries.

"Yeah." He brushed Sam's hands off and sat up, listing a bit from grogginess.

"How did you know where we...?"

"Go." Bobby held out the Colt.

Ruby chose that moment to step out of the shadow onto the driveway. "You heard the man. Go."

Sam looked up into Ruby's stony face. She met his questioning gaze with a slight nod toward the house. He looked back at Bobby, clearly confused, but only grabbed the gun and sprinted to the front door.

Bobby slowly pushed himself up to standing, still woozy from the priest tossing him like a rag doll. He took a step forward and promptly fell on his hands and knees. "Shit," he muttered, shaking his head, trying to clear it. He was going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. A few feet away, the priest's body was still smoking, plumes of remaining life energy floating to nothingness in the cool night air.

He winced at the sound of heels crunching on the stone towards him. When he saw a pair of boots right in front, he looked up, past Ruby's jeans and jacket, into Ruby's pale face. A smirk was playing on her deep red lips.

"Well, it looks like Sam and Dean have things under control here," she said brightly. "Guess I'll be seeing you around. Nice working with you, Bobby."

Bobby stared at her retreating back. "Jesus Christ," he sputtered. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"I'll take that as a compliment," she yelled over her shoulder.

"Ruby."

Already halfway down the driveway, she stopped and turned on her heel, her eyes darkening. "Now what?"

There was no mistaking the steel in Bobby's gruff voice. "You so much as hurt a hair on those boys' heads, I will find you and kill you myself. Gun or no gun. Got that?"

Ruby smiled a genuine smile, and her eyes returned to their normal color. "Got it. Good for you, Bobby Singer. Good for you." She turned around, parted the surrounding bushes, and disappeared into the shadows.


End file.
